


Nine in the Morning

by ashes0909



Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: Drinking, Established Relationship, Everyone's making bad decisions. Including the author., Green Beer, Let's all pretend supersoldiers can get drunk, M/M, Slice of Life, St. Patrick's Day, Steve gets drunk
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-03-18
Updated: 2017-03-18
Packaged: 2018-10-07 01:32:26
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 982
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10349418
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ashes0909/pseuds/ashes0909
Summary: “Are you pouring whiskey?” Steve asked as Clint very obviously poured whiskey from Stark’s bar.“What about it?” He tossed in an ice cube in his glass, then another.“Well, it’s nine in the morning.”





	

**Author's Note:**

> Happy Saint Patty's Day from me and my bottle of whiskey to you!
> 
> I'm not sure what this is but...

“Are you pouring whiskey?” Steve asked as Clint very obviously poured whiskey from Stark’s bar.

“What about it?” He tossed in an ice cube in his glass, then another.

“Well, it’s nine in the morning.”

Clint placed his finger to his lips then pointed to his ear. They waited, and he watched as Steve tried to hear something other than the hum of the refrigerator. “It’s the sounds of the Saint Patrick’s Day waking up.”

Steve put his hands in his pocket and swayed on his heels, grinning. “I didn’t know you were Irish.”

“M’not.” Clint smacked his lips together as the amber liquid washed down his throat.

“But-”

Clint interrupted him by lifting his glass in a toast. “Everyone’s Irish on Saint Patty’s Day!" And then Clint remembered. “Wait, your parents were Irish. That means you drink double, here I’ll pour you some.”

The elevator chimed, and the doors opened to Coulson and Tony bent over an actual manila file folder. Coulson looked up first, nodding at Steve before turning to Clint with a small smile. They hadn’t seen each other that morning, Coulson leaving earlier than Clint had woken up.

Coulson still had the shamrock pin on his lapel, the one Clint had secretly pinned there the night before.

“I see we’re starting early this year."

“I told the bad guys to take the day off.” Clint told him, handing his glass to Phil even though he knew he wouldn’t take it.

“What’s going on?” Steve asked, staring at the drink Clint had put in his hand. “Why are we drinking at breakfast and how does it have anything to do with my folks. Or the parade downtown?”

“Oh Capsicle.” Tony began and Clint watched the blush enter Steve’s cheeks that always occurred when Tony used that nickname. “You would not believe what that parade has become. Pub crawls! Food dye! Clint, put your drink in a flask, we’re gonna show Steve here how we celebrate Saint Patty's in this century.”

Clint looked back and forth between Steve’s expectant smile and Tony’s determined eyes.

Of course they were.

~~~

O’Malley’s already had a line. Steve’s jaw dropped and between the three of them only Coulson could suppress his laughter. Through the window they could easily see the pitchers of green beer in circulation. Clint pointed one out to Steve just to see his eyes widen.

“Don’t worry about the line,” Tony said even though none of them were worried. “We’ll be on the list.” They slid around a group of students clad in leprechaun costumes passing around a vape pen, and walked through the front door.

The place was loud. Light streamed in through the windows to show every bad decision being made before noon. A pair of women in green sweater-dresses and heels walked by, arms linked to keep from stumbling. Clint followed them with his eyes until he felt Coulson fall into his spot by his shoulder. His eyes swung in time to see Phil’s lips twitch up in amusement. “Having fun?” He whispered in Clint’s ear.

“You know I’m a sucker for mayhem.”

“Gather 'round ye lads and lasses, set ye for a while.” Tony threw his arms over Steve and Clint’s shoulders. “And let's us set sail forth to Drunken Isles.”

“I don’t think that’s how the song goes.”

“Thank you for your input, Agent. Top marks.”

“Why don’t you go get us drinks?” Phil suggested.

Tony pulled Steve to the bar and Clint leaned into Coulson’s side. “Green beer sure looks tasty.”

“No it doesn't."

“You sure you really gotta be responsible today?”

Coulson pressed his lips together. “Oh fine. You don’t have to give me those puppydog eyes, Clint. Let me just text Fury.”

“Yes!” Clint lifted Coulson’s wrist and high-fived their hands together.

~~~

They were on their third pitcher of green beer and Captain America had the hiccups. It was actually pretty adorable. On one side of them a booth fit for four currently held twelve people, and on the other side of them he was pretty sure the couple had passed second base and was sliding into third. Steve hiccuped.

“...and it makes sense that the holiday evolved this way, when you consider how much alcohol has pervaded most major holidays. Or was it always like this?”

Steve’s monstrously large hands came up to rustle Tony’s head. “We drank in the forties too, Tony.” He hiccuped towards Clint. “Some of us even started at nine in the morning.”

“But not you?” Clint lifted the pitcher and drank straight from the rim as Coulson watched, shaking his head. Maybe Coulson wanted some? He held the pitcher out to him and Phil took a sip from the straw.

“You two are adorable.” Tony stated.

“I have no idea what you’re talking about,” Coulson said, pinning Stark with a stare that made Steve explode into laughter. He leaned over Tony’s arm, all but eliminating the space between them. Phil smirked. “You’re one to talk.” He gestured towards Steve.

“You don’t - _hiccup_ \- know what you’re talking about Coulson,” He pointed a finger at Phil and it swayed with him into Clint’s line of sight as well. “We’re not adorable - _hiccup -_ we’re Avengerable. I mean, Avengers.”

Clint groaned. “That was bad.”

Tony nodded, rubbing at Steve’s back until he sat up to lean into Tony’s side. He hiccuped. “Yea, Steve,” Tony agreed. “Not your finest hour.”

Steve pushed into Tony’s side before pointing towards Clint. “This is all your fault.”

“No.” Clint straightened the shamrock pin on Phil’s lapel. “This is the Irish’s fault.”

Phil shook his head. “You can’t blame a whole nation for your decision to encourage us to drink at nine in the morning.”

Clint grinned. “Watch me. Plus Steve's a big boy. He agreed. He can handle it. He's Irish.”

Steve hiccuped. Then dropped his head to Tony’s shoulder groaning, “Nine in the morning.”

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for reading!


End file.
